AN: This idea wouldn't leave me along after the partial finale. It seriously wouldn't. Leave. Me. ALONE. It's been eating at me for these past few days until I finally gave in and wrote. It's rough and I liked it at the beginning but then it just... urgh, I don't even know. Thank you for picking my story and I hope you enjoy it, as always feedback is always appreciated. Lastly I don't own Fringe, I just adore the worlds JJ Abrams brings to life and bask in the lens-flare.
Interdependence
A Fringe one-shot that occurs right after 2x15, Jacksonville
*
Peter told Walter that they were having drinks and that was true, but he also told him that this was just something friends did. Maybe that would also be truthful if he hadn't tried to kiss the blond recently.
Admittedly, it hadn't been either of their finest hours as Olivia was afraid of inadvertently killing people from not being good enough (or maybe special enough in this instance) and he was ashamed at what his father had done to her and what he couldn't do to help himself. When she had looked up with those green eyes suddenly so open, so vulnerable and contrary to her usual composed form he had the urge to reach out and help her. Maybe a hug would have been better. That was what friends did.
Friends don't attempt to kiss each other; he had broken a delicate line. He now was caught in an emotion crossfire of apprehension and fear from what he'd tried to insinuate.
They were at the bar now and he had told himself that it was only his nerves that were making his perception on the situations outside his tumultuous brain guarded and measured, but the way Olivia's hands sprayed on the sides of her drink and how she seemed oddly fixed on the random decorations the bar had - he knew he had to start something to get their usual banter rolling. Although he knew he shouldn't bring up work it seemed to be the only thing his almost-genius mind could come up with.
"So.. the building shined?"
Olivia seemed to stiffen for a moment before sighing and nodding her head, a few of the let-down tassels falling over her shoulders in the process. She then straightened her back and leaned back in her chair, finally resting her eyes on him and she seemed to tilt her head to the side for a moment before adding, "But now I'd say it's more as if it glows and pulsates."
"Like a shaking neon light?"
This seemed to make her let out a breath of laughter before she shook her head and said, "It's not that flashy."
"Does it look really weird? Burn your retinas or anything?" He couldn't help it, his curiosity never seemed to die.
Her scrutinizing eyes seemed to focus on his face for a few moments before she said, "No; it's not painful in the least. Just a little unsettling," and then looked away back down to her amber drink and clinking ice.
"Well, enough of work. Lets get another round and just unwind for a night," he said with a grin before waving over the waitress for another drink.
Olivia let out bout of light laughter as she said, "I think we deserve at least that much with what's been going on lately."
"Parallel universes are never very good stress relievers."
"Or diseases that wipe out humanity or certain genotypes."
Peter openly winced at that. He remembered vividly how he acted when infected, how he seemed to be having an out-of-body experience that left him feeling empty and entirely disheartened about his control over himself when he awoke with the full knowledge of what he'd done and attempted to do.
For not the first time, as they clinked their glasses together, he was grateful for this one woman in front of him.
*
Daisy with light at bottom left
*
The younger Bishop wasn't completely adverse to hauling bodies around as he believed it to be a requirement in his eccentric job but when that person was Olivia he found it a little more difficult and important then a unconscious witness or enemy.
At the bar he hadn't noticed with their loose, and mostly unimportant conversations (one of such was where Peter described his distinct fear of sea-horses with their male pregnancies that had Olivia hiding a laughing fit), how the blond seemed to have a fairly low tolerance, or not as resistant to his own, as soon she was laughing without inhibition with her mouth wide open in a way that had Peter both amazed and fearful.
So here he was now, hauling the person who was probably as close to him as his own Father, into his car so that they could drive back to his apartment. He knew he probably wasn't entirely at full coherency as it took him a few seconds longer to fish out his keys from his pocket - he blamed that on the woman he was practically carrying to the car mostly - but like hell he was going to call a taxi and have the problem of leaving his car here. And anyways, he hadn't drunken as much as the blond here, he could still function just fine.
Olivia chuckled huskily against his chest as he moved her into the passenger seat before buckling her in, making sure that her limbs and hair were out of the door's way before closing it. When he got back into the driver's seat he jammed in the keys and reversed, repeatedly blinking to try and regain his senses once on the road.
He glanced over to the blond and jumped in his seat a little as she was intently staring at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed to indicate she was in deep thought and that it was obviously focused on the man before her.
"Olivia, what is it? I hope you're not unjustly judging me for not abiding by the law..." Peter trailed off as her face seemed to scrunch up even more with each word.
Feeling his palms start to become slightly clammy with how odd this behavior seemed coming from her, he opened his mouth to attempt at a trademark smart-ass jib that she might get even in her intoxicated state, but she cut him off with something that made him slightly swerve the car in shock.
"You glitter so prettily."
After he composed himself (with the help of a few honks from nearby drivers on the highway) he looked over to her with an eyebrow at the height of his hairline.
"Can you repeat that Olivia?"
"Building was scary," she continued to slur as she twisted her body to face him more, "You look nice."
Peter bit down on his bottom lip - this had to be the drink talking, what other reason would she be comparing him to something like a sparkling unicorn from a children's movie? Telling himself to relax and that this was perfectly normal for people who took too many shots and alcoholic beverages he forced a laugh and said, "Alright, I'm not taking you out for drinks in a while."
She loudly argued against his lighthearted statement as she groaned before facing herself back to the road, defiantly crossing her arms across her chest.
"Doesn't mean I'm never going to hang out with you," he laughed as he relaxed his grip on the steering wheel a little in relief, "Just that alcohol may not be included, or at least in the amounts we had tonight." He was also relieved to find that they were at his home, which he supposed Olivia would be staying at with her current state and him not wanting to do anymore driving, as well as Walter being an even worse choice then Olivia.
"Good," she said with a grin, "I like you."
Parking, he forced another laugh at her innocent statement that had his face feeling a little too hot.
*
Butterfly with light on the left
*
While it had been simple enough maneuvering Olivia from the bar to his car, having to direct her through the building and then into the elevator and then to his apartment seemed much more frustrating. How she had decided to wear sharp heels today that had his feet aching sucked because of it but the way she latched her arms around his neck wasn't unwelcome - the way the weight his neck felt from it and her whiskey stained breath evened it out.
Finally getting to his door frame she seemed to collapse against him, making Peter almost loose his balance and have them fall on the floor in a jumble of limbs. But he managed to continue supporting her until he opened his door and walked inside.
"Walter?" he called out into the dark apartment, "Hey! Wake up!"
Shutting the door with a swift kick he continued on into the flat, looking to his left to see the man he'd just called out for, oddly enough, sleeping soundly. Feeling that if Walter was already asleep, he might as well not wake him. He supposed he needed a break just as much as either he or Olivia did, that was probably why he was still asleep after the door slam and yells.
"Hey, Peter, you're like a flashlight!"
Olivia's odd statement made him remember why he was standing stiffly in his own living place and he continued on towards the couch where he plopped her down. She blinked with the disorientation the action brought before she grinned lazily up to him. Telling her he'd be right back he went off to get blankets and a pillow; he came back not a minute later with the desired things only to see that Olivia was up and staring at a picture of him and Walter when he was very little on a nearby shelf.
"I wonder when it happened..." Peter heard her mutter to herself as he threw off the couch's cushions and spread the blankets over.
"Time for bed Olivia; I'm sure tomorrow won't be as life threatening as today was but exciting none-the-less," he said as he walked over to her, rubbing at her neck as he did.
"Okay," she oddly agreed as she turned to him.
He stuck out his arm for her to take, which she did with another crooked grin. The lithe blond sat on the couch where Peter took off her (evil) heels along with her jacket, deciding that going any further would be once again crossing that invisible line he supposed he'd already jumped over for a moment. It had been odd with that looming problem - Olivia didn't seem to be affronted from that elephant in the room much during the drinks tonight. It took a little longer for her to loosen up and he had noted she wasn't focusing her bright eyes on him as much as she usually did and he initially took that as a bad sign; yet she had warmed up enough throughout the night and had soon been the only thing her eyes were focusing on. Except her multitude of drinks, he corrected himself.
When he heard her giggle while she flopped down to lie down, as he'd asked, he supposed the loose inhibitions could have very well been the multiple fermented liquids they'd had tonight.
Leaning over to tuck her in, he saw a shy smile on her face that was barely visible in the encircling darkness.
"What?" he couldn't help but ask as he crouched next to her, her head turning to continue watching him.
Her grin widened as she said, "Pretty."
Rolling his eyes, he made a move to get up but this seemed to set her off as she suddenly grasped out and encircled one of her arms around her neck while the other grabbed around his chest.
"Olivia, wh-"
"I don't care."
He mentally commented how she seemed to be even harder to discern then when she was sober (which not many people could do as alcohol usually loosened the lips). Lifting his the one arm she didn't have trapped in her hap-hazard embrace, he patted her head comfortingly.
"You're not making any sense."
She remained silent yet her grip on him tightened.
"Olivia, I know you're tired," Peter sighed into the base of her neck, "You need to get some sleep, at least try and be normal."
Silence was the only thing between the two of them before she mutely nodded, yet she didn't seem to show any sign of letting him go.
"Let me go Olivia," he said, lightly amused with her childish behavior.
"No. You belong here. I don't care if you're not from here," she said with slight pants, Peter realizing that she might be going hysterical and so not giving much heed to her words.
He hadn't done anything to set her off; maybe she was finally cracking from it all. In all the time he'd been with her the situation of her breaking down and showing unrestrained emotions was a rare occurrence, something that had to be thoroughly provoked for it to affect her.
"You belong here Peter."
"I am here," he said with slight amusement.
"You belong here with me."
He opened his mouth and tried to get his vocal cords working - it didn't happen. The conviction and confidence in her voice for something so simple and for something that was obviously already happening, as her arms were holding him here with sudden strength, suddenly had him unnerved.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said.
"Please don't," she whispered with raw emotion against his neck.
"I won't," he agreed as he began petting her silky head again. This seemed to calm her down as her grip on his torso continued to lessen and soon she had her cheek leaning against his own scruffy one, breath hot against the shell of his ear.
He took this opportunity to softly cajole her body into lying back down, being careful to gather her hair above the pillow. It seemed so soft and straight, it would be a shame if she tossed and turned, making it fuzzy and uncontrollable like his own hair whenever it got too long.
"Thank you Peter," she whispered as he arranged the blankets around her again.
"Your welcome," he naturally answered before taking a second to add, "I'm always here for you."
"You better be," she muttered. Peter couldn't hold the smile that covered his face; there was his Olivia.
"Have a good sleep."
"Keep on glittering prettily Peter."
He shook off the continuous odd subject she kept bringing up with a roll of his eyes. He didn't move until he saw her eyelashes flutter as she closed her eyes.
With a last stroke over her head that had both of them smiling he got up to go to bed himself.
*
Upright hand-print with light on the left
*
Peter felt the customary heavy throb in his temples that alcohol seemed to be married to. He took a few moments to rub at his head and unruly hair before he got up with a groan and rush to the head that had him almost lying back down.
As he heard another crash from outside his room, him guessing it's what woke him up in the first place, he arched an eyebrow before getting up, scratching at his bare chest as his legs lethargically moved him towards the sound of crashes.
Even though he was squinting from the bright sunlight that the living room (or should he say Walter's bedroom?) windows let in, he could see a hunched over figure on the couch while another moved around in the small kitchen area.
"Walter, what did I say about you cooking?"
"A-Ah! Peter, you are up - fantastic. I was just trying to make something for our friend who seems to be having an unpleasant morning."
Peter sighed as he looked over to Olivia whose face was hidden by a curtain of light locks. He walked towards her and when he was close, she looked up with bloodshot and bagged eyes that had Peter wincing. But he noticed how the eyes only stayed on his face for a few moments before flicking down to his torso and legs.
"Is there a reason you're half-naked?" Olivia asked as she moved some hair out of her face and lightly grinned.
Feeling a bad swell of realization hit him, Peter looked down to his solely boxer-clad self and quickly excused himself for a few minutes. Cursing how hangovers made him oblivious, he went out of his room for a second time. Pulling at the bottom of his shirt in an odd wave of self-consciousness he made his way over the kitchen where he took the pan from Walter's hand and shooed him out with it.
Granted, it was harder to make scrambled eggs while his vision was blurred and his body seemed out of sorts, but he managed it all the same; didn't want the house to be burned down from Walter's uncanny disability to do a simple domestic task.
"I believe I should make my remedy for hangovers," the walking danger zone said himself as he carefully moved Olivia from her slouched position on the couch to the breakfast table.
"I don't believe that's a good idea. Knowing your methods it'll be, hands down, drugs."
"Of course," the genius said in defense, "What else to make you feel better then to make you forget about reality!"
"I forgot the last time I've drunk that much," Olivia said as she rubbed her forehead, "This hangover is so awful I almost want the drugs."
"It won't be a problem-"
"She said almost, Walter. Almost."
A few minutes later and Peter felt overly proud of himself in having enough ability to finish making breakfast, setting the three plates on the table to begin. Walter seemed to be whole-hearted happy with the food as he began eating right away (after he'd mixed in his self-medication into the OJ of course).
Peter was much more hesitant as his stomach did an odd flop at the sight of usually appealing food. Glancing over to Olivia he noticed she seemed to have the same dilemma but she took a deep breath before lifting her fork and scooping some eggs into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed.
A second later she was sprinting for the bathroom.
"You should go lift her hair out of way, son," Walter said as he grabbed her plate and moved her portion of eggs and toast to be included in his.
Sighing, Peter got up to do just that.
*
Apple with light on bottom left
*
A good ten minutes later, in which Olivia had thoroughly emptied her stomach, Peter was at the couch with the dejected blond, holding out a glass of water for her before sitting down himself. He wasn't feeling very good himself but he knew that his wasn't anything compared to hers.
"Where did Walter go?" Peter asked as he watched her tentatively take a sip.
"He said he wanted to go find something he'd been recently reminded of," she said in a slightly gravely voice that made her clear her throat.
"Hm," was all Peter managed to come up with as he leaned back.
There was silence between the two of them for a few moments before Olivia broke it with, "Last night..."
"We both got pretty hammered," Peter finished for her.
"Obviously, if this raging headache is anything to go by," she said with obvious resentment to her current state.
"I got so caught up in our conversations that I forgot to watch your orders. You wracked up quite a bill, I hope you know," Peter said while rubbing at the side of his face.
"I just wanted to relax for a little bit from everything that's been happening, guess I took it too far."
"Any good, hardworking and morally-right person like you deserves to get wasted every now and again," he quipped lightly.
The blond allowed a few breaths of laughter and for a ghost of a smile to adorn her face. The slight grin made Peter think of the hap-hazard ones last night that seemed to sometimes crack her face in their width, showing off her teeth that she must have had braces to achieve. But suddenly the amusement was gone from her face as she turned to him, and that's when he saw it - her fingers were fidgeting.
"I just, uh, do you remember much of last night?"
Peter almost barked out uncontrolled laughter as he took in how uncomfortable she seemed to be, she obviously didn't let herself relax enough. But he managed to stop his laughter as he realized that she must not recall anything of last night.
"Most of it, why?" he asked casually although his brain was wondering what she was trying to get at. Obviously nothing had 'happened' between the two of them as they had woken up separately and fully clothed, or at least in Olivia's case.
"I didn't say anything... odd, did I?" she asked before beginning to nibble on her bottom lip.
"You were a little eccentric last night," he said, causing her eyes to widen, "But I don't think it was anything but the booze's fault. It does that to people, you know."
He could tell that she forced a chuckle at that before she said, "I suppose it does."
Peter narrowed his eyes slightly as she rubbed at her arms, as if uncomfortable with her surroundings. He knew it was discombobulating to have memory lapses but that was just one of the side-affects from drinking. But he guessed that with all the type of work they did and paranoia that came packaged with it, Olivia was just nervous at not being able to know everything and feel safe from her own experiences and memories, even if it was only a night of talking with him.
Deciding that although he felt it unnecessary, he decided to quickly sum up the night. "We got at the bar, had drinks and by the time I realized you had had one too many it was already too late and you could barely stand up straight. So I helped you to the car and then drove us here, deciding I'd be better not to drive you home since we were both compromised and Walter's driving wouldn't be any better. I took off your heels and jacket before you crashed on the couch. End of our epically normal night adventure."
Looking over to her, he smiled as he saw her face was slightly flushed.
"I hope I wasn't too much of a bother," she said as she drummed her fingers on her knees.
"It was fine, I didn't mind at all."
She shyly grinned at him again, tucking some hair behind her ear in the process.
Sucking a breath in, Peter suddenly had the desire to break the 'Friend's Line' once again. He almost found himself leaning towards her, but thankfully stopped himself before he gave into the urge.
Although usually silence between the two of them was comfortable, this time it seemed suffocating to Peter. Maybe it was because of his thoughts of kissing her or maybe it was because Olivia was embarrassed by her unaccounted for behavior, but he felt like he was drowning in open air.
"Yesterday..." She trailed off and it seemed like she wasn't going to finish, so Peter prompted her with, "Yesterday what?"
"When I was... feeling lost."
Peter's stomach suddenly just felt like a dryer, it was uncomfortably turning fast too fast and suddenly felt like it was a few hundred pounds of metal. He wanted to say something, but his tongue didn't feel much lighter and his lungs were having problems just breathing as it was.
She then looked up at him and lightly smiled, saying, "Thanks."
"F-For what?" he finally managed to get out, mentally kicking himself for his inability to talk correctly. He blamed it on the alcohol (again).
"You encouraged me, comforted me. There's no way I can repay you for helping me save those people."
She hadn't breached the subject; Peter forced a smile.
"The almost kiss I hadn't expected."
Peter promptly began to choke on his spit, causing Olivia to slap him on his back a few times in help.
"Well that was..." he drifted off like she had.
"Improvisation?" she offered and Peter swore he saw a glimmer in her eyes.
"Aren't you suppose to be hungover?"
"Are you proposing we talk about this another time?"
"You didn't bring it up in the bar, why are you bringing it up now?" he easily countered with as he looked at her expectantly.
"I was... occupied with other things," she said as she turned away.
"Like how much you could drink in one go?"
This had her turning at him and narrowing her eyes, leaving Peter to believe she might slap him across the arm any second.
"Don't change the subject Peter Bishop."
"I wouldn't dream of it Special Agent Olivia Dunham."
When her face broke into a grin, Peter couldn't hold back one of his own.
"So what?" she broke the silence quickly, "Want to tell me anything?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he hedged as he looked away.
"The kiss."
"Oh. Right."
Silence reigned once again and Olivia broke it with a light sigh. Leaning back against the back of the furniture like him, she said, "Are you going to attempt it again?"
This had Peter's eyes slowly moving from the wooden floors to her face that looked overly amused.
"Are you suggesting I do?"
"I'm not adverse to it."
"Then you should close your eyes and tilt your head up."
"Like this?" she asked as she turned to him and fluttered her eyes closed.
"Perfect," Peter breathed as he reached a hand up to cup the side of her face before dipping his own.
A sudden creak and slam made the two open their eyes and quickly move their them to the scurry of feet as Walter stood in front of them with what Peter could only describe as a the inspiration for that purple-people-eater song.
The anomalous scientist seemed to take a few seconds to gauge the scene (two people's faces mere inches from each other with one's hand caressing the other's face) before his face broke into a grin and he said, "Not I'm really glad that I found my wedding tuxedo."
The couple gaped at him for a few moments more before Olivia had the right mind to pull away, hiding her face with a hand as she coughed, trying in vain to break the suddenly awkward atmosphere that was Walter staring at them, positively ecstatic.
Thankfully, Peter broke it with, "That was the tuxedo you told me about? It'd more horrid then I could have ever imagined."
*
Apple with light on top right
*
Not an hour later and Peter pulled up into Olivia's apartment complex, pulling out the key and cutting the engine before turning to her with a slight smile.
"Well, here you go," he said, trying to sound breezy.
The blond seemed focused on her hands for a few moments before she looked up at him, her eyes wide and biting at the side of her mouth in a profusion emotions that Peter couldn't differentiate.
"Peter, you know..." she drifted off before she righted herself with, "I'm not good at this sort of stuff."
"What? Drinking at bars? I think I've already learned that," he said in return, trying like always to take the facetious way out.
"No, I'm not good at... relationships."
This time, Peter managed to not choke on his breath but it still had him blinking and thickly swallowing to try and get ride of the sudden heaviness in his throat.
"I don't know what we can-"
"It doesn't matter," Peter said as he turned to her, eyes narrowed in determination, "We don't have to voice anything, do anything - it's there and that's what matters. We don't have to try and label it. Or control it like an experiment."
The last bit had Olivia smiling again before she sighed out in relief, "It seems I don't know what to do anymore."
"Well, just so you're aware, I'm not going anywhere," he said with a tilted smile.
He felt his half-smile falter at the sight of a brilliant one from her.
"Then I guess I'll be seeing you around Peter," she said through the wide smile.
"Can I kiss you before you go? You know how they say third time's the charm," Peter said before he could stop himself or let his brain filter out the stupid.
She nodded her head. Peter couldn't help it, he quickly looked around the mostly deserted street before he dipped his head down and brought their lips together. It wasn't a perfect first-kiss between for them as their heads were angrily buzzing and he was uncomfortable with the seat-belt digging into his shoulder but it was still priceless.
He pulled away only a few seconds after their lips had met and Olivia seemed slightly dissapointed from the action when she opened her eyes, if her drawn together eyebrows were anything to go by.
"When we get sober I'll let loose a little more," Peter said before he dipped his head down to give her a peck on the right edge of her mouth. When he brought his head back he saw that her smile had returned.
"Always the smart-ass."
"Always the hard-ass."
She raised an eyebrow before she got out of the car, giving a wave as she closed the door before turning to walk towards the front door. As he watched her go, marveling at how she was balancing on her heels with such a foggy head, his head swelled with the memory of last night - of her clinging onto him as if he was her life-raft and making him promise not to go.
Unbuckling his seat-belt, he opened his door and stood, yelling over to her who had just opened the gate door, "I'm not going anywhere!"
She turned to him and he could tell from her body language, even from here, that she was both confused and amused.
"You just said that!" she shouted back.
"I just wanted to make sure you knew," he answered back, the corners of his mouth inadvertently twisting up.
He saw her laugh before she gave a wave and was gone.
Getting back into the car, Peter took a minute to sigh and just think - marvel at how he and Olivia were now something else, something more then people who worked together. Sure, it wasn't something entirely concrete but Peter had a growing feeling that it was more concrete then past relationships he'd had where all they left him with was feeling empty and fake.
He still felt overly irked, though, from what she had rambled on last night. But he knew, as he weirdly enough started humming, that that could wait for another day.